


Requiem Justitiae

by i_paint_the_sky



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age Kink Meme, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 01:08:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2832650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_paint_the_sky/pseuds/i_paint_the_sky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Hawke comes to Skyhold, Anders comes with her. Cole comes across him and decides he needs to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Requiem Justitiae

They put him in one of the broken towers, somewhere most people would never go. Anders could hardly blame them for that – the Inquisition had taken quite the risk even letting him the front door, let alone harbouring him while Hawke helped them figure out this Warden problem. He hated that he couldn’t be out there with her, he hated ever being without her, but he knew it had to be this way. He’d barely been able to fight off Corypheus’ influence the first time and back then he had been a lot more … whole.

Justice would say – did say – that he could only be whole if he had a purpose. But Anders didn’t believe it, not anymore. Purpose seemed but a memory these days, a memory steeped in blood and betrayal. It was purpose that kept him awake at night and purpose that had driven everyone away – except Hawke, whose love was a gift he deserved even less now.

He missed her. It was strange, not to be able to reach out and find her there at his side. But he knew she would only leave him for good reason.

_But she does not fight for us anymore – she turns her back on our plight!_

“No,” he muttered. “You’re wrong. She has always fought for us … for me.” It was an old argument but Justice could not accept that he was wrong anymore than Anders could.

“Me. Us. Where is the divide? Is there a divide, or are we two parts of a twisted whole, together forever?”

Anders nearly jumped over the battlements at the sound of a voice that wasn’t one of his own. He turned around and saw a boy standing by him, odd and pale and wearing the largest hat he’d ever seen.

“Who are you?”

The boy took a step closer, peering at him with narrowed eyes. “No, no … who are you? Who is us? It’s not … no, this is not how things are meant to be! You should not be here, in there.”

_Demon! Get it away from us!_

“No, that is not what I am. And it should not be what you are either but if you stay too long, you cannot help yourself.”

“You … you heard him?” Anders managed to say, his heart racing and head spinning. “You can hear Justice?”

“Voices, speaking, too many, _too many_! This is not what you are, not what you should be. No!” In less than the blink of an eye, the boy vanished.

 _We must stay away from him_ , Justice said, his voice sounded like it had the day the Kirkwall’s Chantry exploded.

“Yes … of course” Anders muttered, not convincing either of them that he believed it.

-

“You look like hell, Blondie.”

Anders sighed, putting his book down and looking up at Varric. “I feel even worse,” he said after a moment.

“I doubt that, have you looked in a mirror lately?” Varric walked over and settled down in a nearby chair. It was impressive how he always managed to fit in, no matter where he went – that was something Anders have never managed.

Speaking of Hawke … “Shouldn’t you be out there, tracking down rogue Wardens?”

Varric scowled. “No, I got left behind. The same old bullshit as always, _I need melee fighters, Varric, and you won’t use any weapons except Bianca_. You remember that, right?”

“Yes,” Anders replied, his face twisting into a grimace of his own, “I do.”

“Anyway, I figured I’d come up here and make sure you hadn’t thrown yourself off the battlements or anything equally dramatic and dumb.”

“No, none of that. Not yet, anyway.”

Varric’s eyes narrowed slightly, trying to decide if he was joking or not. For a moment, Anders' mind went back to those first years in Kirkwall, when almost every word between them had been in jest. Yet another thing that vengeance had destroyed.

_Jokes are unnecessary. A true friend would have fought with you, till the end._

Anders gritted his teeth to keep himself from responding. “So, now that you’ve determined I’m alive and well, will you be leaving?” He hadn't intended to sound so harsh but old habits died hard. No wonder he had so few friends left.

“If that’s what you want, sure,” Varric snapped. “Far be it from me to stay somewhere I’m not wanted. And here I thought you might enjoy some company.” He stood up and headed for a the door.

_Yes, let him leave, let all the unworthy ones-_

“Wait.”

Varric stopped, looking back over his shoulder skeptically.

Anders took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I know I’m terrible company and have been for years. But I am glad to see you, I swear it.”

Varric stood still for a moment, before shrugging and returning to his seat. “Alright, but I’m warning you Blondie, start talking about mages or templars and I’m outta here.”

“Fair enough,” Anders replied, nodding.

“So …”

“So …

An awkward silence filled the room, until movement in the corner of his eye attracted Anders attention. Or at least, he thought there had been movement, though nothing was there when he turned to look at it.

“Varric, do you … Maker, this is going to sound strange, even for me. The other day, there was a young man in here … I think.”

“Ah,” Varric said, nodding. “Skinny, pale kid, giant hat on his head?”

“Yes, yes exactly!” It was a relief to know that whatever this person was, he was at least real.

“That’s Cole. Uh, some people call him a spirit, others a demon.” Varric paused, frowning. “Not sure what I think but I guess you are in a pretty good position to tell either way.”

“Justice doesn’t like him.”

Varric raised an eyebrow. “Really? Why not?”

“I’m not quite sure yet,” Anders replied with a half-shrug. “And I don’t know if I care to find out.”

“Ah, the kid’s a good sort, I think. He always claims to be trying to help.”

_We do NOT WANT its help! We do NOT NEED its help!_

“Whoa, Blondie. Don’t go all blue and glowy on me.”

Anders closed his eyes, took deep breathes, and counted down from ten. “Sorry,” he muttered when he was in control again. “Justice _really_ doesn’t like him.”

“Well, I can ask him to keep his distance, if that would help. Though I don’t really know if he would listen.”

“I would appreciate whatever you can do.”

“Fine, I’ll talk to the kid.” Varric stood up again. “I should probably go and get back to the hall, make sure we haven’t gotten any word back from Hawke or the Inquisitor. I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

“Thank you, Varric. Really. Everything you’ve done for me … just, thank you.”

Varric looked at him for a long moment, before smiling slightly. “You’re welcome.”

-

The next days were long, made longer still because they still had not heard from Hawke. Worry and guilt gnawed at Anders, keeping him from being able to focus on anything except her absence. He was even more grateful for Varric’s presence, as sometimes it seemed that the dwarf’s visits were the only thing keeping him on this side of sanity. Not to mention the only time he ever remembered to eat anything.

The days stretched on but the nights were worse. When he did sleep – which was rare – the nightmares came, Corypheus’ fake Calling singing to him, a voice whispering _obey_.

“Voices whispering inside, always. I listen to them too much, as they guide me into destruction and beyond.”

Anders opened his eyes, sudden awake and aware. Cole was right there over him. The boy seemed to be sitting on Anders’ chest but there was no weight pressing down on him. The same was not true, however, of the dagger in the spirit’s hand, its blade resting against Anders’ throat. No, that was definitely real.

“You wanted to die. You thought she would kill you and save you from yourselves.” Cole leaned forward, putting more pressure on the dagger. “Do you still want this? Do you want to die in Justice’s name?”

Anders swallowed, which only caused the blade to bite in more. “No,” he whispered. “No, I don’t want that.”

“What do you want?”

“Freedom.”

Cole tilted his head, looking down at him, and then he was standing beside the bed. “And what do you want?”

Justice had been oddly silent, given his dislike, but Anders could feel him stirring at the question they both knew was for him. 

_We want this creature to go away, and never co-_ Cole reached out and placed a hand on Anders’ arm, the touch radiating warmth. _I … I want to return home._

Cole nodded and Anders thought he saw the spirit smile, though it was hard to tell in the darkness. “I can help. I want to help. I will help.”

And then, suddenly but expectedly, he was gone.

-

The next afternoon, Skyhold was alive with news, excited voices echoing off every stone. Experience told Anders that it could only mean one thing: the Inquisitor was back … and Hawke would be with him. At least, Anders hoped and prayed she would be.

Part of him – all the parts he still knew were truly Anders – wanted to run to join the crowd by the front gate but he didn’t dare it. Varric had already told him all the rumours about the man in the East Tower, and while some were outlandish enough to be amusing, others were far too close to the truth. It would only put everyone and everything at risk to know the Inquisition had offered him safe harbour. And so he waited, trying to be patient. Any success he had was only because Justice had been quiet since their encounter with Cole, as they both contemplated if the spirit could really help and what exactly that help would mean.

Finally the door opened and there she was. He stared at her, hardly able to believe she was real. It was only when she spoke his name that he let out his breath, then rushed over to wrap his arms around her. “Oh, love,” he whispered, pressing his lips against every part of her he could find, “you’re back. You’re safe.”

“I am,” she replied, and her arms tightened around him. “I didn’t … I’m still not sure I should be, but I am.”

He pulled back, to look into her face before asking, “What do you mean?”

She took a shaky breath, looking away from him. “We were in the Fade. Physically _in_ the Fade. And a lot of things happened in there that I’ll have to tell you about later. But at the end, there was some sort of … I don’t even know if demon covers it. But there was no way for all of us to get past it, not without …”

Anders waited, not trusting himself to speak without saying something damning – asking how she could leave him, after all they’d been through, when he needed her so much.

She finally looked at him again, meeting his gaze. “I offered to stay. I was the one who broke Corypheus’ bindings, starting this whole crazy mess. I should have stayed, to make up for that mistake. But in the end, it was Alistair who stayed behind. After everything he already sacrificed for this world, it seems too much to ask him to do it again.”

“I’m sorry, love,” he whispered. She managed a small smile, before pressing herself against his chest, her head fitting perfectly underneath his.

So then Alistair was gone. Anders had not known the man well but he remembered the Warden-Commander talking about him, and how her face lit up when she did so. Losing him would be a devastating blow. Still, Anders couldn’t help but feel relieved that he wasn’t the one it happened to.

He wasn’t sure how long they had been standing there, before there was a knock on the door. “Come on in, Varric,” Anders called out, loosening his arms from around Hawke slightly.

The door opened, but it wasn’t Varric who walked in. No, it was the strange elven apostate … Solan? Anders couldn’t remember. And behind him, standing in the doorway, was Cole.

“She’s back now, life has meaning for me again,” the spirit said. “It is time for me to help.” The elf glanced back at him, a soft smile on his lips.

“What’s going on?” Hawke asked, taking a step back out of Anders’ embrace.

“I … don’t quite know,” Anders admitted.

“My apologies,” the elf said, “let me explain. My name is Solas and this is Cole, a spirit of Compassion. Cole asked me to look into a way to help your friend separate himself from the spirit who has possessed him. I believe I have found a way that can accomplish it, without causing either party harm.”

Anders stared at Solas, then looked back at Cole, who was definitely smiling now. “I told you I could help. Put everything back in its place, not quite like it once was but better than it is now. You have to do it.”

“And why should we believe you?” Hawke asked, before looking at Anders with a frown. He knew immediately what was the cause of that, old memories still fresh in both their minds. _I believe I have a formula for a potion that can separate Justice and me._

Solas shrugged. “Because it is either that or have both of them continue to suffer in their current state. While spirits seek the living out, they are not meant to be joined like this. It makes demons of them, as I believe you both well know.”

It was hard to argue with that. Anders sighed, glancing at Hawke. “For what it’s worth, this time it is the truth. At least, it is as far as I know. And if it really can be done then … we have to take chance.”

Hawke bit her lip. “Very well,” she said eventually. “Just so long as we don’t end up near any chantries this time.”

Anders nodded. “That would probably be for the best.”

-

The sun beat down on the party as they climbed the mountain, making the trip far less frigid then it might have be otherwise. Anders walked beside Hawke, of course, and it seemed just like old times.

_It is better now … isn’t it?_

Anders frowned. It wasn’t an easy question to answer, which Justice well knew. Certainly, he regretted his actions that day in Kirkwall – though that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do it all again. The Chantry’s destruction had been a pebble thrown into the pond and its ripples were still being felt. Anders and Justice had both mourned the loss of the Circles at Dairsmuid and Rivain. And together they had felt vindicated when the College of Magi finally voted for independence from the Chantry.

But there was still so much bloodshed, so much death. So much needless fear and hatred. But he still believed in his cause and in what they’d done. The work wasn’t finished yet but ultimately, yes, he did think the world was better now, or at least on the path to becoming better. This was especially true when it came to the Inquisition, which seemed poised to reshape it all.

He thought it was best to keep these thoughts to himself.

The Inquisitor, Edric Cadash, walked just in front of them, with Solas at his side. It had been the dwarf’s decision to have Alistair fight the demon in the Fade; Anders would never have the words to express the depths of his gratitude for that.

“So,” Edric said, “what exactly are we doing out here again?”

“Looking for rifts, of course,” Solas answered.

“Right. Except we aren’t going to seal this one?”

The elf shook his head. “No … at least, not right away. As you know, the rifts are tears in the Fade, allowing spirits to enter our world. But I believe that it can also be used in reverse, allowing a spirit to return to the Fade.”

Edric glanced at Solas, then back over his shoulder at Anders, before shrugging. “You’re the Fade expert, so just tell me what to do.”

“First, just find a rift for us to use.”

It was another hour of trudging through snow before they found one that the Inquisitor hadn’t already sealed up. Anders had never been this close to one before and it was … unsettlingly beautiful. Even as the demons poured out of it, he couldn’t help but marvel.

“Are you ready?”

Anders looked away from the Rift to where Cole now stood. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “Justice and I have been together for so long that I had given up all thought of ever being separated. Plus, I still don’t if this is really going to work.”

“There are spirits of Faith,” Cole murmured. “Maybe we need one of them?”

_We will be fine. We have seen worse than this and survived._

Anders began to nod, then stopped, suddenly shifting into a combative stance. “That is, of course, assuming we survive the rage demons coming this way.” He reached back for his staff out of habit, before remembering that it wasn’t there. He’d have to make due with bare hands and magic … and if that failed, well, Justice was still with him for now.

Beside him, Cole crouched and pulled out his daggers, while on the other side Hawke was already at work with her lightning. Now, it really did feel like old times and Anders found himself smiling as he cried out “Suck on a fireball!” before blasting the nearest enemy.

The party made short work of the demons and soon Anders found himself standing right before the rift, which looked different now, all ripples and translucence without the harsh edges. Edric stood beside him, the anchor in his hand pulsing. “Feels weird not using it right away,” the dwarf said. “But this all is far from the weirdest thing I’ve had to deal with recently, so what the hell, figure I might as well give it a shot.”

“I know that feeling.”

Edric looked at him for a moment, then grinned. “You probably do, at that.” He turned, shaking his head slightly, to face Solas. “What happens now?”

Solas was staring at the rift with an intensity that made Anders’ neck prickle. Finally, the elf looked away, meeting Anders’ gaze. “You need to touch the rift. If I am correct, doing so will allow the spirit to pass through your body and return to the Fade.”

“And if you aren’t?”

“Then we shall try something different. How else are any discoveries made?”

It wasn’t exactly comforting, but he still had to try. He took another step towards the rift, standing right before it now.

_They call to me and I remember._

“I can’t hear anything,” Anders whispered under his breath.

_No. You would not be capable of it._

Slowly, Anders reached up, his hand shaking as it got closer and closer to the green, shimmering thing. He could feel goose-pimples appearing all over his body, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if there were literally sparks going up and down his spine.

There was just an inch left when he paused. “Are we sure?”

_Yes._

He touched the rift.

The feeling was impossible to describe, just as it is hard to explain a dream once it is over. It felt wrong and right, like he was intruding and like he was coming home. And then, with a shudder and sigh, he felt warmth flow through him and out.

There was a bright light, and Anders had to shield his eyes for a moment. When he stopped blinking, he looked back into the rift and on the other side, was Justice. Their hands were both against each other but Anders couldn’t feel the spirit’s touch, as if the rift were a pane of glass resting between them.

“Anders,” Justice said, the voice coming from outside instead of in. “I can see you now, better than I could before. I can see the wrong I have done you.”

“No,” Anders told him, “we both share responsibility for all of it. But I am glad that you are finally able to be free, to be with the other like you.”

Justice shook his head. “I am not like the others now. It will be a long time before I return to what I was, if ever.”

The rift began to crackle, and Anders could hear Solas say “Inquisitor, we will need to seal it soon, before it becomes unstable again.”

“I must go now,” Justice said. “I …”

Anders smiled. “I’ll miss you too. Be well, old friend.” He took a step back, breaking off contact with the rift. A moment later, it closed and was gone, and Justice with it.

Someone grabbed his hand. Hawke. “It worked,” she whispered.

“Yes,” Anders said, and his voice sounded hollow without Justice there to speak with him and listen. “It did.”

-

“How does it feel?” Hawke asked as they sat on the bed in the East Tower, passing a bottle of wine between them.

Anders took a drink before trying to form an answer. “It’s … strange. Justice and I were joined for ten years. To not have him here, to be just me, it’s something I hardly remember.”

“And I’ve never known you without him,” Hawke replied, looking at him closely.

He smiled slightly. “That might be for the best, love. If you had met me before, I don’t think you would have liked me much. I was quite foolish and really didn’t care about much beyond getting my own way. And, of course, flirting with anyone that crossed my path.”

“So ... no sexy, tortured look?”

He actually laughed at that, surprising them both. “No, though I’m sure I would have done my best to fake it, had I known it would get me anywhere with you.”

She leaned over and pressed her lips against his lightly. “I look forward to getting to know just you better.”

There was a soft knock on the door. “Can I come in?” Cole called out.

“Oh, you’re going to knock this time, are you?” Anders said. “Alright, come on in.”

Naturally, the spirit didn’t actually walk through the door, instead appearing beside the bed in a blink of an eye. “Hello. It’s very late but I knew that you wouldn’t be sleeping, I could feel it in the air.”

“Hello, Cole,” Hawke said, taking another gulp of wine. “We aren’t exactly in the right mindset for sleep tonight.”

“No, not now. Everything has finally become whole again, pieces long lost getting put back together.”

Hawke smiled. “Yes, something like that.”

“And you are happy?”

Anders paused before answering that. “Yes, at least I think so. Certainly I am closer to it than I deserve. And what about you? Does this make you happy?”

“Oh yes!” Cole exclaimed, nodding with such enthusiasm that his hat almost fell off. “Helping always makes me happy, especially when it is this type of helping, helping people get better. That’s what I want to do, always.”

“If the world was filled with more Coles, it would be a much better place,” Hawke murmured and Anders had to agree with that. Already he couldn’t imagine his life if this pushy spirit hadn’t forced his way into it.

Cole walked towards the window, his skin silver in the moonlight. “You’re going to go now, aren’t you?”

Anders went to stand beside him. “We hadn’t really decided yet.”

“No, you have. We’ve saved the world before and helped it again, now we have earned a break.”

“Not quite a break,” Anders replied after a moment. “Hawke and I will be going to Weisshaupt. Someone needs to let the Grey Wardens know just what happened here. Though I’ll admit, I’m not sure I like the idea of reminding them that I exist.”

“I can take of that,” Hawke said. “It won’t be easy to leave here though. Not unless we sneak out in the night, but I don’t think Varric would ever forgive me for that.”

“He will,” Cole said, turning around to face her. “He already knows you’re going to do it. Just make sure to keep writing letters, or I’ll be the one chasing you and Blondie down.”

Hawke smiled. “Tell him I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I will. Should I do it now?”

Anders shook his head. “I’d recommend against it, unless you want Bianca turning you into a spirit pincushion.”

“Oh no,” Cole said, looking aghast at the idea, “I don’t want that at all.”

“It’s probably best to wait until morning then.”

The spirit nodded. He reached over and touched Anders’ arm lightly. “Goodbye. Don’t forget me.”

Anders smiled and shifted so that he could firmly grasp the spirit’s arm at the elbow. “Don’t worry, Cole. I never could.”

One last smile and Cole was gone again, Anders’ hand grasping empty air. He stood there by the window for a long time, until finally Hawke walked over. “Sounds like we have some packing to do.”

Even between the two of them, there was not much to be packed and it wasn’t long before they were making their way quietly down the battlements. Just before the gate, Anders looked back up at the Eastern tower and realized he would actually miss it, rubble and all. He would miss the people of the Inquisition, even if he’d never met most of them. And of course, he would miss Cole.

And Justice. But it would be good to reclaim himself, and be with the one he treasured more than anything in the world.

“Okay,” Hawke whispered, “the guards are just about to change. Are you ready?”

Anders reached out and grabbed hold of her hand. “As long as I’m with you, love, I’m ready for anything.”


End file.
